How Does that Make You Feel?
by kolxhero-0
Summary: After a mental break down, Alfred, is court ordered to see a psychiatrist. EnglandxAmerica
1. Chapter 1

"I-I'm here to see the shrink."

I muttered under my breathe, slamming the court order down on the receptions desk. She jumped, startled by the jester. Her hooters were the size of melons. I leaned in as she went through a filing cabinet, unaware, I was looking down her blouse.

"Mister...Jones...ah!" She exclaimed, finding my file. "I found you! The Doctor will be with you shortly, have a seat and he will call you back when he's ready."

"Thanks." I grumbled.

I took a handful of mints from the complimentary bowl between us, stuffing them into my pocket. The room was tacky and smelled like a nursing home. I popped a mint into my mouth trying to resist the urge to smoke. Crunching into it loudly and taking a seat in one of the ugly paisley chairs. The tracking device around my ankle was beginning to chafe.

As part of my probation, orders were to go see a psychiatrist. Something about being emotionally unstable or some shit. There were loons all around this city and I ended up in , here, for one little incident.

"Mr. Jones?"

I snapped up.

A man stood in the doorway, a clipboard in hand. He was short, wearing a brown tweed suit that I assumed to have been bought from a thrift store. His hair had been bleached blonde and he sported a poorly done, DIY cut. I wondered if he thought it looked good.

"Hey."

I snorted, clearing my throat to keep my laughter.

He greeted me with a handshake, it was firm.

"I am Dr. Kirkland."

That time I heard an English accent. Great, now I was going to have my brain analyzed by Sherlock Homes himself. The brown suit suddenly made sense.

"Come inside and have a seat."

His words were spoken friendly with a smile, teeth surprisingly straight and un-yellowed. I walked into his office that looked more like my grandma's house than a work place, making myself at home on the plastic covered love seat. He shut the door and took his place in the computer chair adjacent.

"So. It says here, that you tried to kill yourself."

His vibrant green eyes skimmed the paper, stopping to glance up at me.

"I was drunk."

I shrugged, popping another mint.

"According to what is written here; after hearing voices, you began to claw your face and threaten to shoot yourself through the head. Several neighbors in the apartment complex heard shouting and the police arrived to the scene shortly, where, they were forced to taser you, twice, and use a straightjacket to keep you from injuring yourself. Is that correct?"

Silence.

"I was really drunk."

"Right." Said the Doctor, shifting in his chair. "How often do you get, 'really drunk?'"

Sarcasm.

"Same as the average person, I suppose. How often do you dress in the dark?"

I sneered.

Checkmate.

"Listen, my purpose is to help you. Now, if you rather go spend time in an asylum for a few weeks instead, it can be arranged."

"You wouldn't."

He smirked, clicking his pen.

"Oh, dare you test me?"

Figuring I had little choice, I fused up.

"Its been happening for a few months. At night, sometimes, I say or do things to myself that I did not think up."

"Like?"

He pried, a thick brow raised.

"Insults...physical harm...sometimes ma-seee-...you know..."

"Masturbation?"

"Yeah."

"And you say this occurs at night?"

"Yes."

Kirkland jotted something down. I raised my chin trying to read what he had written, however, the bastard hid it from my eyes.

"I wish to observe."

He stated.

"When?"

"Tonight. Your place."

I thought it strange, but, I did not know if it normal for shrinks to invite themselves over to their patient's homes or not.

"See you soon."

He said.

The door was held open for me and I wandered out. Taking a drag from my cigarette as I waved for a cab.


	2. Chapter 2

That night, I sat in the recliner faced towards the front door. As I waited for the shrink, my eyes browsed the small living space. Thinking, I probably should have committed some time to clean. The anticipated knock came. Putting out my cigarette, I shifted through the litter of clothing and clutter, to open the door.

"Your neighbors are friendly." The man said, stepping inside. His ugly suit was covered in mud. "My wallet was stollen on the street just outside."

"Looks like they roughed you up."

A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth.

"Yes, well, luckily they only took my decoy wallet."

He slide off his jacket, throwing it over the back of the couch.

"Decoy wallet?"

I mumbled, wondering if he was mugged often. Probably, because of his short stature. He stumbled over trash as he attempt to sit.

"Sorry about the mess."

"Do not be." He said, pushing aside a pile of old newspapers to make room. "I assumed you lived like this."

Bastard.

It was then, that I took notice to Kirkland's luggage. Upon his lap was a black leather suitcase with a wooden handle. Sliver clasps kept it shut.

"What's in the bag?"

He looked up.

"Before I show you, you must promise not to touch it."

"Yeah, okay."

His face was stern.

"Promise."

"Yes, I promise!"

Asshole.

"Very well."

The man popped the lid and with curiosity, I peered inside, not sure what I was looking at. A set of jumper cables was hooked to some kind of machine. He rolled his sleeves.

"Is it a car battery?"

He handed out the clamps, sighing.

"Hold these."

I took one in each hand and he began to fiddle with the knobs on the device. Something was not right.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to touch it?"

His finger hovered over a switch, casting his eyes up. They lacked emotion and his face was seemingly calm. I stared back, it was impossible to read him.

"You weren't."

It was flipped.

A hot sensation overcame me, my muscles contracting. My mouth wide, tasting of iron as I was unable to speak. Body in pain and unable to move, vision of the psychiatrist hazed. Mind blanking, as I fell to the filthy carpeted floor.


	3. Chapter 3

Fire.

I jolted, suddenly conscious. My abrupt awakening I soon realize was due to my abdomen being used in place of an ashtray. Delicate fingers twisted a cigarette butt into my flesh. Its ember snuffed out slowly. A trail of smoke twirling from the newly inflicted wound near my navel into the face of Dr. Kirkland.

"Such an unhealthy habit."

Uttered the madman, his emerald gaze upon me. He tossed the butt aside and pulled another from the package. A lighter was held to its head, ready to light.

"MMMmmm!"

I squirmed, my mouth muffled and body bound. Fucking bastard had me naked in the bathtub. Around each of my appendages, rope was secured tightly cutting off circulation and making them go numb.

"Do not look at me like that."

He grumbled. Laying his head on the edge of the porcelain basin. He flicked at the lighter, making it spark. The end of the fag lit, burning gradually til the tip became too heavy and fell onto me. I winced.

"I told you not to touch."

The cigarette's dim glow illuminated his dull expression.

"You and I have allot in common. After a long day at work, we both love spending an hour or two at the pub on third. Its a quiet dive, they have cheap beer and something a little harder if your in need."

Another piece of ash broke off, hitting my thigh. I jerked as I was straddled, snatched by the chin to still me.

"At first you were just part of the scenery, however, it was not long before you had my fixed attention. Just one look into those pretty blue eyes and I wanted to gouge them from their sockets." His grip tightened. "I watched you, soon, I craved you. So, I had the bartender mix a special drink. It took quite a large tip, but, soon you were consuming my special brew daily. Which, in time, brought you to my doorstep. Amazing what a little mercury can do to the mind."

He had poisoned me. I began to thrash and he put out the blaze below my eye. Tears welling as the man whispered.

"You may be wondering why I went to all this trouble. Well, I have a confession," he licked my ear, "I am a murderer, and you, my next victim."

The tape was ripped from me, immediately followed by a punch to the face. I spit out the washcloth along with a mouthful of blood, the spot stinging.

"Do not yell."

Placidly said.

"Or what? You already said you are going to kill me."

I wished for a gun.

"True."

He smoothed my fringe back, examining the developing bruise, no doubt.

"Hair is very flammable."

His gaze unwavering as he stroked my head.

"Scream, I will set it ablaze. Before anyone can come to your aid, you will be a burnt lump of meat."

He warned in monotone, placing the lighter in his breast pocket for safe keeping. A knife was retrieved from outside the tub. It shined dully in the streetlight that shone in from the dusty window. I wanted nothing more than to take it from him and stab it between his bushy eyebrows.

"A human body can lose 2,000 ml of blood before going unconscious, 3,000, we die."

With a cut of his blade, my arm was set free. However, I could not control it properly for the rope that wrapped it had made it impossible to move. He stretched it out, scanning it over with his eyes. The tips of my fingers had turned blue from lack of blood, my palm charred. I wondered for how long it had been deprived, then, without warning the knife bit into my elbow, Kirkland's hand clasping my mouth.

I inhaled deep, looking up in terror at the man's indifferent gaze. The painful hacking continuing as my screams were captured by his hand, pinning me down. Blood splattered over my nude carcass, pooling around me. My eyes wide and tear filled, trembling from the trauma. I went silent as the butchering ceased, my throat sore and my breathing heavy. My arm from elbow to shoulder throbbed and I was twitching uncontrollable from the pain.

"You have thick muscle."

Said Kirkland, wiping clean the bloodied knife on his shirt.

"Pl-please, let me go."

I begged, not able to look him in the eye. Instead I looked to the window, paralyzed, when I saw my severed arm tossed out onto the tiled floor.

I was going to die.

"I have made up my mind, I told you."

He was apathetic, delivering another punch which sent my head spinning.

"This is only the beginning."


	4. Chapter 4

The man demounted me, his button down stained. He stepped out of the tub and turned on the shower head. Luke warm water washed over me. My lip quivered, still staring out at the night sky in misery. It was a clear summer evening, the moon nothing more than a sliver.

"Look here, Alfred, look here."

He snapped his fingers and shut the curtain, demanding attention.

"Ah-t least, let me l-ooh-k out." I protested.

"With that attention span, I bet your schoolwork was horrid."

In his hands he held my torn limb and the accursed clamps.

"Let me show you something. You may even find it interesting."

With that, he secured the cables to the appendage and sat it upon the toilet next to me. Sitting at the ledge of the sink was the machine. He turned it on and I watched the arm move. It twitched, fingers moving spasmodically as the electric current coursed through it. When the flesh began to cook, he stopped.

"Fascinating, don't you think?"

My body went tense as he moved towards me, leaning to turn off the facet. He was a small guy. I was uncertain how the man had dragged me, a man three times his size, across a trashed apartment.

"Are you confused about something?"

He asked in a silverly voice, gently taking a towel to my hair.

"You have a surprisingly pleasant scent, considering your living quarters."

"Well, doc, you stink like crack rot."

I was smack cross the face.

"Having a tongue is a privilege." Kirkland warned, drying my nape. "Oh, and please, call me Arthur."

Great, now, I couldn't get the imagery of a homicidal aardvark out of my head.

The man placed the back of his hand to my forehead, like my grandmother did when I was feeling sick as a kid. It was cold, making me shiver.

"You are running a fever."

Hmmmm...wonder why, fuck tard.

"I will let it go down before I amputate your leg."

He said, patting at the gapping wound.

I lurched, hissing.

"W-why don't you just get it over with? I'm sure you have more important things to do."

"Nothing is more important than you right now. I only have this short period of time to spend with you. If only the human body was not so delicate." Sighing, he elevated the remainder of my arm. "Keep this here, it will help slow the bleeding. "

"So kind."

I murmured.

"You have such cute, childlike expressions, it is fairly amusing."

His thumb ran down my chest, followed by lustful eyes. I watched him warily as he ogled my body. I felt like an actor in some sortof sick, gay novel. He snapped his gaze, looking down at me fondly. The astray hair above my left brow fell into my view, it was gingerly moved back into place.

"I am going to use you to pleasure myself."

My heart dropped, suspicions coming true.


	5. Chapter 5

I tried to distance my mind from the situation, as my captor undid his belt. When he dropped his trousers, I took notice to the jolly roger tattoo on his thigh.

"Weird pl-place for a tat."

I commented.

"It was something I got in my youth when I was going through my rebellion stage." He explained, cracking the belt. I jumped. "Now, let me prepare you properly."

Kirkland leaned over me and manipulated my half-limp body, he was strong for his size. My bottom half was yanked out of the tub while my top half remained face down in the bath. He placed his belt about my neck and preceeded to yank my head back causing the leather to strangle me. I gasped for air.

"I have never had the craving for sex." He touched my asshole with his finger and I tensed. "This is my first time with a man as well, lucky boy."

The choking ceased and I watched him take the detachable shower head. He carefully unscrewed the top, water dripping from the hose. It did not take a genius to figure out what was going to happen next. I buried my head in the porcelain and shut my eyes tight as something smooth with a gel consitatcy was slathered against my opening.

"All I have is chapstick for lube, forgive me. I was not planning on sex."

Slowly the small tube was pushed inside. It was uncomfortable, not painful like I assumed it would be. With a horrible screech from the knob, I groaned as my rectum began to fill with cold liquid.

"Aah, ooow..." I moaned as I felt water run down my legs and dribble upon the bath mat. "Shit...shit..."

He stopped the water and shoved me back into the tub. Ass up, the continents within me erupted flowing down my naked backside. I was a human geyser.

I laid there for awhile, my anus spasming. The shower head was replaced and whisked everything away down the drain.

"I heard you moan, did that feel good?"

Kirkland asked, lifting my head by my hair.

I spat at his face.

Clearly, he did not like that. With force he slammed my face into the tub bottom. My mouth filled with blood, oozing out onto the bleach white porcelain. I turn my head, coughing.

"This is the on'y way you can ge' some, huh?" I gargled. "Sick Bastard."

He cracked the belt over my back and I cried out. I felt the welt swell, stinging as he administered another painful blow. The man relentlessly whipped me til I wept.

"Listen close."

He rolled me over, forcing me to look up at him. His green gaze was cold, holding his make shift whip. Blood was splattered cross his sloppy shirt.

"You belong to me."

He said huskily, lowering himself upon me. His crotch was shoved into my face, erection straining against the thin fabric of his boxers. It smelled of honey and sweat.

"I am your king, your god. I can manipulate you anyway I please."

The man kneaded my lips with his bulge.

"Now, worship me."

* * *

Dear Readers,

Thank you for reading and I do hope you are enjoying this story!

Chapter was a little short, but, wanted to end on a cliff hanger.

HAHA!

As always, feedback is most appreciated!

-kolxhero-0


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